


keep a place for me

by peredhils



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Angst, M/M, Sexual Content, mentions of Victor/Yuri - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-07
Updated: 2017-04-07
Packaged: 2018-10-15 22:52:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,333
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10559042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peredhils/pseuds/peredhils
Summary: “I don’t know if this is a good idea, Phichit,” Yuri says, contradicting himself by edging closer still.  “What if one of us falls in love?”Despite the tugging, desperate warning his heart thuds out against his chest, Phichit laughs in a way that sounds fake even to his own ears and says, “What could go wrong?”—Phichit and Yuri, in Detroit, and a little bit afterwards.





	

**Author's Note:**

> wrote this to sometime around midnight by the airborne toxic event and self control by frank ocean. i was all in my feelings

It had taken him until it was far too late to realize that he had been in love with Yuri all the while.

When he has Yuri pressed up against the wall of their apartment, for what was not the first time but one of the first where it really mattered, Phichit understands. He presses his lips, almost too lightly, up Yuri’s jaw and he knows then, that he loves him. And it had been that way for quite some time, and that it would probably stay like that for long after.

And that was just the thing. Even though it is far from their first kiss, far from the first time Yuri slid his hands under Phichit’s shirt, it feels like a timer had begun to tick down from that point. There seems to be a sadness that is waiting to descend upon him, for when he knew that his heart beat wildly and irrevocably for him, he felt there would never be enough time. This slow grappling for each other against the wall was somewhere in the middle of the beginning and the end—probably closer to the end than Phichit would care to admit, even to himself. Something tells him he'd be fighting every moment, every new day to keep this. He wants nothing, absolutely nothing if it isn’t the burn of Yuri’s tongue dragging over the roof of his mouth.

He could never tell him.

Phichit’s heart is in his throat and he thinks he’s choking. With a sinking feeling, he remembers every other time they touched like this. Knows, sadly, that it had been like this the whole time. He just never noticed, never wanted to acknowledge that he was—he was in love with Yuri. Ignored the tremble in his hands when they reached out. Pretended that his stomach didn’t twist in all the right ways whenever Yuri came home. And god, he doesn’t even want to think about the way he feels when he watches Yuri skate. Every time it’s as if he’s never seen something so beautiful, and Phichit knows that he had fallen in love so long ago. Probably from that first time he saw him skate, but he can’t think about that now. If he goes down the path that thought lays, he’d know that the moment he first collided with Yuri on his bed in their apartment, which seems so far off and hazy now, that he’d even been in love then—and he should have known better.

Yuri moans, and Phichit breathes in.

 

The last time plays out more or less how Phichit feared it would. Yuri kisses him and kisses him and says, “I’m sorry I have to go.” If he spoke, he was going to cry. So he takes Yuri’s cock into his mouth instead, and lets him fuck his throat so desperately Phichit nearly forgets any other sound on his tongue, nearly forgets his own name.

Yuri comes down his throat hot and pulsing and only slightly tinged with finality. Phichit almost pleads, _don’t let this be the last time_ , but he knows better as he presses his fingers into Yuri and closes his eyes against the image of Yuri mouthing his name.

What he does manage to say is, “Beg me for it, Yuri,” because he needs to hear it, even if he never hears it again. Even if he knows this moment will play through his head for months on end and will hurt, every single time.

And Yuri begs, “Fuck me, Phichit. _Fuck me_.”

With all of Yuri’s things packed away, his room had felt smaller and too cold. Phichit had let Yuri drag him into his own room instead, which Phichit thinks is a mistake. No matter how many times they’d been on his bed together, Phichit thinks that he’ll never forget that things ended here, where they started. Whenever he lies down in this bed he’ll remember Yuri beneath him, with unshed tears in his eyes, and his name on his lips. Every time they lay tangled up in each other and talked about the future in whispers, afraid to break the illusion that they’d be together after this. The things Phichit would mutter against the over-kissed parts of Yuri would echo in this bed, long lost to time. He’ll never forget how it felt to have Yuri’s heart pound under his palm whenever he would say, “Maybe we could find a place together, a real place.” Or, “I’d like to go with you, wherever you end up.” These things always tumbled out against his better judgement. Most things with Yuri went against Phichit’s better judgement.

Despite his telling heartbeat, Yuri would respond, “What did I tell you when we first started doing this?”

Refusing to give in, Phichit would only kiss away the sting.

So, Yuri begs him. And Phichit lets himself fall back into it. He twists and curls his fingers and Yuri’s hands grip at his sweat-warm back. “I’m going to miss you,” Yuri says between gasps, with a tenderness that hurts.

Phichit lines himself up in response, and slides into Yuri while wishing that the sun would never rise again.

 

There were times when Phichit was convinced that this was going to last forever. Once, Yuri came home from practice and the first thing he did was kiss Phichit. While Yuri hitched his knee up and over Phichit’s and straddled him where he sat at his desk, Phichit thought maybe he’d like to do this for as long as he could. He didn’t want to lose this life they had.

In bed watching movies after long nights of studying. Sitting across from each other at breakfast with the light falling on Yuri in endlessly beautiful ways. Watching Yuri and wondering how he was ever going to let him go, whenever the time came.

Yuri had been quiet and shy when they first met. But Phichit learned that with the right angle to a kiss, the right heated look, a hand on his thigh—Yuri would loosen up, and he’d be Phichit’s. He’d be screaming Phichit’s name with abandon, biting a bruising path up the line of Phichit’s shoulder, and Phichit didn’t want to let him go.

 

Somewhere after the last time, but not too long for Phichit to have given up all hope, yet, Yuri calls him from Japan. They don’t facetime, just audio, because both of their hearts are probably still back in Detroit.

They agree to stay friends.

Phichit paces his room for hours after, wishing he were in Detroit again. He suddenly doesn’t want to be back in Thailand, doesn’t want to be skating here, doesn’t want the morning to come. Something weak within him had thought maybe Yuri would say, “I realized something,” and then they’d be in love, and everything would be alright.

But Yuri had said, “I think we’re better off as friends.”

Phichit still has _but I’m in love with you_ resting on his tongue.

 

Yuri says, “He’s loved me since the banquet, Phichit.”

Phichit wants to scream _as if that’s not what I’ve been doing this whole time_?

 

The first time goes like this.

They’re in Phichit’s room sometime around midnight. There’d been beer, but they’re both sober, even though they’re pretending it’s more the alcohol’s fault than theirs that Phichit’s hand is sliding up Yuri’s thigh.

Their faces are pink, smiling softly with heavy lidded eyes. Phichit reaches up to take Yuri’s glasses off, and Yuri leans in ever closer. Nearly touching noses, Phichit cups Yuri’s cheek while his other hand is still finding its way to the soft insides of Yuri’s thighs.

“I don’t know if this is a good idea, Phichit,” Yuri says, contradicting himself by edging closer still. “What if one of us falls in love?”

Despite the tugging, desperate warning his heart thuds out against his chest, Phichit laughs in a way that sounds fake even to his own ears and says, “What could go wrong?”

**Author's Note:**

> title from self control by frank ocean. these two make me so soft i love them afjkdla hmu on [tumblr](%E2%80%9Dleviackrmnn.tumblr.com%E2%80%9D) if you have any phichityuri thoughts im dying to hear them


End file.
